The Things We Do For Love
by BellatrixLestrangey
Summary: Anon one shot request: Football/Cheerleader au: Bloom: Linebacker Icy: Cheerleader. I have no knowledge of football, but I tried my best.


"There is no way I'm going to do that." Icy shrugged.

"But I need a cheerleader." Bloom pouted.

"Not happening. Cheerleaders are too peppy and infuriating." Icy declared.

"Then I guess I just won't be able to do as good." Bloom stuck out her lower lip.

"Really…I'm not a good cheerleader anyhow. Honestly I was never good at sports. I much prefer…"

"Your books and watching your girlfriend fail." Bloom finished.

"While yes both of those appeal vastly to me, I would prefer that you not mess up the most important game of the season." Icy replied.

"Then go audition for the cheer squad." Bloom insisted.

"Yeah…how about I don't do that." Icy muttered. "And besides, audition time for that occurred back when football tryouts started."

"I guess." Bloom's pout doubled in size. She turned her back and started a slow stride away. "I have to go get ready…the game starts in an hour." She looked back at Icy. "I guess it was kind of silly to assume you could make the team in under an hour."

"Good luck tonight." Icy responded simply…she would not take the bait this time.

Not since the mishap with the chess team. Bloom claimed she had always wanted a 'smart' girlfriend. Icy waved her off stating that she would not stereotype women who liked to read by joining the chess and or math team.

Bloom pulled the 'you wouldn't make it anyways' card and Icy found herself surrounded by a bunch of whiny girls obsessed with 'the art of the checkered board.'

Icy shuddered at the memory…

Never again.

Bloom fumbled with the straps to her shoulder and kneepads.

Man she hated those things.

And that helmet…it was way too hot and stuffy in there.

She could see why they were necessary yes…but on some days (like this one) she'd rather take her chances with fractured ankles, bruises, a broken bone or two, or at the very worst a concussion. _Basically_…she told herself…_I'd rather tough it out_.

Maybe then Icy would actually go to her games…to make sure she didn't die or something.

With a sigh, she tugged the maroon and purple helmet on anyhow. "What ugly school colors." She mumbled to herself as she followed the team onto the field.

It was just past sundown, the bleachers were fuller than ever—fans screaming loudly, an incoherent blur. A blur that would become even more fuzzy with each time she made a nervous fumble.

She took a deep breath.

Why was she so nervous. She was never this nervous before.

One of her team mates gave her a friendly good luck punch on the bicep. She vaguely remembered responding. Something like a grumbled "cut it out Jackie." Or maybe it was a 'not now.'

She heard the bleat of a whistle. One of the many football slangs she'd been coached into responding to. But between the sadness and the nervousness, she'd missed which one.

The ball sailed right past her…

And a body sailed right into her.

Tackled.

She got up and shook herself. It wouldn't happen again. Not in the next play.

Bloom scanned the crowed. Typically her parents weren't there…Mike was always busy at work. Understandable, fires were one of the few things that _could_ start themselves and her dad needed to be there when they did. And Vanessa, sure she was such a kind and sweet lady…Bloom couldn't have asked for a better adoptive mother. She was whole-heartedly accepting when Bloom came out of the closet, but when it came down to football that was still a 'man's sport' and ladies shouldn't play it.

Bloom clenched her first.

This time the football nailed her right in the stomach.

She fumbled and dropped it.

Another whistle. This one probably some sort of penalty for her mess up…again.

She gave the dirt an angry kick.

"You idiot." Bloom heard from the crowd.

She readied herself to give said person a piece of her mind. But when she squinted past the stadium lights she found herself at a loss for words.

"I didn't steal this ridiculous outfit from Bradi to watch you lose." Icy hollered.

"You really aren't a good cheerleader are you?" Bloom asked.

"Absolutely not. So go out there and KICK SOME ASS!" Icy made sure to scream 'ass' many volumes louder than anything else.

Bloom found herself wondering what it was with Icy and the word ass.

She set her focus back on the on the field. The other team was coming fast.

This time she was ready.

Their bodies collided…this time it was Bloom who was a top the tackle.

She would win this.

She had to or Icy would kick her ass (or course she'd do it anyways because she was forced to dress up in that silly girlish uniform) but she'd do so twice as hard if Bloom lost the game.

"I have no clue what's going on here." Icy yelled. "But I'm pretty sure you're doing good!"

Yup, if Icy was humiliating herself this much…Bloom would have to win.


End file.
